You I Third Hunger Games Simple
by JustSomeoneOverThere
Summary: Crossie Terre has been reaped into the 3rd ever Hunger Games. With her crazy, "District 10" brother, her okay love-life, and seeing Sol naked, her life is semi-okay. It got better seeing Sol naked, though. R&R! :


**A/N: Please, this is my first Hunger Games story. Please go easy on me. :) R&R**

I sit on the plush couch, watching tapes from the old Hunger Games. "I'm glad I'm thirteen. No one ever chooses thirteen-year-olds. But how would I know? It's only the 3rd Hunger Games. And pul-eeze."

My name is Crossie. Of District 1. I'm thirteen. And my name has been entered only once. I have two brothers, Fiy and Zanme. Zanme is too old for the Hunger Games, and Fiy is seventeen. So. I guess that settles that.

"The winner of the Second Annual Hunger Games is..." a loud, strong voice boomed, "Vanna Dane of District 6!" I shut off the TV and climb upstairs - the Reaping is tomorrow. Better get rested for nothing at all.

Fiy walks away from me, waving. We're standing a ways apart, and I just want to hold his hand, to be afraid of whoever leaves. Mist Starglam, she pulls out a female name, whoever it is... until Fiy bursts out in a sudden motion.

"HELLO. I'M A DISTRICT 10 PERSON!" the Peacekeepers taze him, and the sign-in-ers flap until they find a record of him. What the hell is he doing?

"Hmm. He is. Go. Go now." The Peacekeepers grab him and pull him into the train. I look at father and Zanme, they're nodding. Mist sighs and pulls out a new name.

"Crossandra," I stop dead. There's another Crossandra, Crossandra Penfield. She's 12... "Terre."

My long, highlighted, strawberry-blonde slaps my face and the Peacekeepers grab my lotioned arms tightly. I stomp up onto the stage. Mist smiles at me. "Now for the boys!" she says in a sing-song voice. "Celestic Leenere." a boy with wet-sand brown hair is pulled onto the red stage. The stage is a velvety red, with squishy pillows at the back, saying "Good luck!" and "Happy Hunger Games!" and stuff like that.

"All right. These are your tributes for the Third Annual Hunger Games. Of District 1." We, me and Celestic, are pulled into a fancy train, where we recognize instantly, the coffee-colored pillows are made by my father. The soft color, made from District 8, and the rubies, the small, lovely rubies, are placed expertly by girls my age.

"Mm-hmm-hmm. Now, no one has advice for you. Nope, nope. Sooooo... we get fighting gods to give you a bit of advice. District 2 and District 6 are unlucky, yep yep." Mist calls happily. "But you can talk to each other."

Celestic is smiling at me. "Hi. My name's Celestic, you can call me Sol."

I realize what he's doing. "Er, hi. It's Crossie."

"We should make an alliance." he grins

"Well, maybe along with a few others," I reply, smiling back. Mist, in a sing-song voice, comes back in with a dark-skinned, tall man.

"Hmm. All right. Here good clue - food." And with that, he parades away.

"Ah, ah. Yes. Yes. The Tribute Parade. You don't meet what's-their-name, but he wants you to wear... this!" With that, Mist pulls out a beautiful, diamond-colored, satin dress. Her other hand is clenched with something.

"W-where's my outfit?" Sol asks.

"Right... here!" she opens her closed hand, to reveal three, large rubies. I have to giggle. Sol looks appalled. I laugh again, this time Mist backing me up.

"M-Ms. Starglam? Uh..." Mist follows Sol's voice. She flicks back her bluish-gray hair, biting her lip. "The rubies for my _buttocks_ don't fit."

"Obviously not!" Misty taps a little button and they turn into neat little gloves. She slides them onto my fingers. Sol's blushing even more. "All right! Let's go!" Sol and I step onto the carriage, where two white horses were hooked up.

We hop on, Sol is still blushing. A dark-skinned man, grins at us. I think he's our stylist. He whispers his name "Satin." and we nod.

As we are on the carriage, I smiling and waving, Sol blushing and winning the hearts of many, I catch a piece of crumpled paper. I read it, and hand it to Sol. "Nice butt." is written. Sol blushes _more._


End file.
